


Make You Feel My Love

by mrdingleifyonasty



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, M/M, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrdingleifyonasty/pseuds/mrdingleifyonasty
Summary: Ghost AU - When Aaron Dingle is violently murdered, there's no way he's going to rest in peace. Instead, he's trapped in the world of the living forced to watch as his husband, Robert Sugden, falls apart. When Aaron learns the truth behind his death, he needs to find someone who can hear and see him. That just happens to be a labourer by the name of Adam Barton who doesn't believe in ghosts...
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for clicking on this! I promise I'm still working on Lucky Man for those who are waiting on it!!! 
> 
> Onto this fic, I've been wanting to write a Ghost AU for quite some time now. If you're not familiar with the movie, I will go ahead and mention that Aaron will stay dead in this fic. Sorry folks, there's not going to be any resurrection in this! Hopefully, you'll find the ending as satisfying as it can be and the story interesting in these circumstances. If permanent character death isn't your bag then feel free to click away. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. I'll do my best to respond to comments : )

The white plaster wall explodes, crumbling into pieces. The air fills with dust motes, sparkling like glitter as they catch the first beams of sunlight to enter the old attic space in almost half a century. The beauty of it all is almost enough to ignore the stale smell that’s hanging in the air. 

Aaron puts down the sledgehammer and leans on it. He pulls his mask down to his chin and grins at his husband who is currently standing in the middle of the room looking like the cat who got the cream. 

“What did I tell you?” Robert says smugly. He’s still dressed in his office best, well-cut trousers and fitted blazer that look incongruous in the dusty room and completely mismatching Aaron’s ripped jeans and old black t-shirt. “Was this, or was it not a complete bargain?” He smirks proudly as he throws out his arms as though he expects imaginary applause and adulation. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron shakes his head fondly. “You did good.” 

They’d bought the place not really expecting much. It had been an old solicitor’s office above a bakery, smack dab in the middle of Leeds city centre. The two floors had been stripped of all the office equipment and partitions and it had been redeveloped as a luxury city centre apartment. The only caveat to this seemingly perfect setup was the loft space. The estate agent said it was included as part of the deal but that they couldn’t guarantee the state it was in. The developer hadn’t paid much attention to it, deciding instead to let it be. As it happened, they’d made a big mistake. 

“They could have capitalized on this, maybe turned it into a penthouse, it’s big enough,” The third member of their intrepid discovery crew, Joe Tate, says as he looks around the room with awe. “You could sell this place and double, maybe even triple your investment,” He shakes his head in disbelief. “What I wouldn’t give for a place like this,” 

“Always money with you isn’t it Joe?” Robert teases, slapping his co-worker on the back. Aaron frowns. He doesn’t exactly like Joe. He’s a bit too up himself for his liking but it appears that he’s easily bribed into manual labour, especially if there’s free alcohol involved (a fine wine naturally, not beer). “There’s no way we’re selling this place,” Robert continues. He puts his hands on his hips and looks around the room again, almost as if it’ll disappear before his eyes if he doesn’t take it all in now. “It’s our home,” He adds, smiling at Aaron. 

Aaron can’t help but blush a little. The word means a lot to him. They’ve been together five years, married for three of them and he still feels like a lovesick teenager when their eyes meet. He lays down the sledgehammer, careful not to disturb another cloud of dust, and crosses the room to take Robert in his arms. 

“You two!” Joe says with an expressive roll of his eyes. “Try going an afternoon without making goo-goo eyes at each other,” He says it lightly enough but Aaron can’t help but feel there’s a slight edge to it. Not that it matters. He’s got his husband and now, they’ve got their home at last. Joe Tate can swing for all he cares.

Joe wanders off to explore the rest of the expanse of the loft space, giving them privacy. Robert leans in, giving Aaron a gentle kiss. His hands come up, cupping his cheeks and stroking them softly with his thumbs. The white dust from the plaster gets all over the sleeves of his blazer. Aaron feels his heart flutter but there’s darkness sitting in the pit of his stomach, twisting and churning. 

“It’s just like I promised Aaron,” Robert says gently, as though in tune with him and sensing his trepidation. Aaron doesn’t want to vocalize it for fear of ruining the moment. “This is going to be a new start for us. No more late nights at work, no more going into the office at the weekend. I’m going to be there for you,” 

Aaron allows himself to relax in his husband’s embrace. Robert holds him like he never wants to let go. The past two years have been the worst of their lives. Aaron was suddenly forced to face his past when his father had returned. He’d been desperate to rekindle their relationship after years of being estranged. He’d acted like your typical wayward father, keen on reforging a connection. 

For Aaron, it was a bitter reminder of his ruined childhood. He had kept his suffering to himself, relapsing into self-harm and Robert had been too busy with his job to notice. It had culminated in an infected wound that had almost killed him. It was the wake-up call they’d both needed. Aaron had spoken out about his abuse and gone into therapy while Robert had promised a new start for them both after Aaron had bravely spoken up in court to ensure his father was sent to prison for his crimes. Now the court case was behind them, it was time to move on.

They’re on the road to recovery and a home away from the ghosts of the past means the world to Aaron. He’s been putting his energy into writing. It was something that started as a means of occupational therapy at the suggestion of his therapist but it quickly emerged that Aaron has a talent and, a year ago, he’d been hired as a writer for a car magazine. It’s a job that allows him to work from home and pays well enough that he can chip in his fair share on their new place. 

“Just imagine,” Robert says as he spins Aaron around to look at their new space. “We could make part of this into a proper office for you,” he adds, pulling him further in until Aaron’s back meets his chest. 

“Which we get to christen right?” Aaron replies suggestively. Robert laughs and Aaron feels his husband’s teeth nip at his ear. 

“Well, I came back at the wrong time!” Joe says, brushing some dust off the sleeves of his jacket and straightening it. “This is one hell of space. Now, where’s that wine I was promised?” 

  
  


****

Robert bites the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from bursting out laughing as he watches Joe enter the lift like butter wouldn’t melt. He nods at a couple of guys Robert vaguely recognizes from the IT floor. 

The lift climbs a couple of floors and, due to it being first thing in the morning, they pick people up at every stop. There have to be around 10 people in the lift when Joe lets out a loud, hacking cough. Robert’s placed himself next to Joe and watches as their fellow lift riders try to keep their faces neutral, a couple of them only giving away minor hints of disgust. 

“So Joe,” Robert starts conversationally. “What did your doctor say?” 

“Contagious,” Joe replies with mock sadness. The man is an expert at keeping a straight face. “In fact, I shouldn’t really be at work today,” He lets out another cough. “But what could I do?” 

Robert’s struggling not to smirk. There’s never a script to work off when they do this kind of thing. It’s always ad-libbed and, try as he might, he’s never as good at it as Joe is. The man is a born actor. At the mention of ‘contagious’, the two IT guys visibly stiffen. Two others stop their quiet conversation and try not to stare. A third slowly and subtly tries to move further away from Joe and into the corner of the lift, pretending to stare at his phone. 

“And, uh, what about the rash?” Robert asks. He sees one of the IT guy’s eyes widen. 

“Not good, it’s spreading everywhere,” Joe says solemnly. “Even on my…” He tails off and nods down at his crotch. That just about kills Robert who really has to fight not to laugh, especially when the people around him forgo all attempts at politeness and move away from him, practically pressing themselves up against the glass of the opposite side of the elevator. “The doctor says I wasn’t to touch anyone,” Joe continues, punctuating his sentence with another cough. Everyone but Robert suddenly starts to hold their breath. 

Every single one of them gets off at the next floor. 

  
  


****

“You know one day we’re going to get the sack for doing that kind of thing,” Robert says a few minutes later as they round the corner of their floor, coffee in hand. The floor is already buzzing, every cubicle occupied accompanied by the usual symphony of ringing phones, typing and voices of their co-workers as they land deals, arrange money transfers and argue with other departments. 

“I might,” Joe replies as they head towards his cubicle. “But there’s no way on Earth they’d get rid of their superstar,” 

“What can I say?” Robert teases. “I can’t help being in demand,” 

Robert had never expected that his true career path was in finance. The haulage world had been a decent enough money maker but he knew he’d needed something that would be more profitable for him and Aaron. An Open University course and a little luck had landed him a job working for one of the largest banks in the UK. Now he has his own executive office on the floor and a wage that meant they could be more than comfortable, especially on top of the money Aaron earns from his writing. He’s risen through the ranks and fast become one of the bank’s greatest assets. It’s a hard job and he’s had to put in countless hours to get himself noticed but it’s all been worth it. Something that makes it easier is that Joe’s cubicle is right next to his office which is handy when he gets so bogged down in paperwork he needs to have a quick laugh with his friend. 

“Mr Sugden?” His secretary, Rose, greets them just as Joe takes his seat and boots up his computer. 

“Morning Rose,” Robert replies. Rose is an amazing asset to his success. She’s been there at his side, always ready to attend to his needs and the needs of the clients he serves. Aaron’s constantly on at him to give her something to show his appreciation. 

“How was the vacation? You were missed around here I can tell you,” She smiles sweetly for a moment. “Which is why I have these for you,” She says as she holds up a stack of files. 

“Aww Rose, you shouldn’t have,” Robert says jokingly as he takes the pile. 

“You have a meeting this morning as you’ll already know,” Rose continues. “They’ve just arrived now so I’ve got them settled in the conference room” She nods towards the room where six men in very expensive suits are helping themselves to the coffee and tea that she’s already laid out. 

“Damn they’re early,” Robert lets out a sigh. His two weeks away from the office had been utter bliss. It had just been him and his husband setting up their new home. And sex. Lots and lots of sex. Truly amazing sex...

“Earth to Sugden?” Joe’s hand is waving in his face. Robert blinks and comes back to the office and the task at hand. “Did you hear Rose? Andy Dillon called. He needs the nine hundred thousand transferred by midday,” 

“Midday? Shit…” 

“I can do that for you, I’m just going to need your MAC code,” Joe offers. 

Joe’s a total lifesaver. Robert’s not really sure why Aaron doesn’t like the guy. He’s always got his back at work and outside of work too. He was there for him when Aaron was in the hospital. He was the one who’d driven him to Accident and Emergency when he was too frantic to do it himself. He pulls out his wallet and grabs the small black address book that he keeps in it. He grabs a piece of paper from Joe’s desk, turns to the correct page and scribbles down his MAC code. He hands the paper to Joe. 

“Discretion yeah?” 

“You bet,” Joe nods. “You know you can always count on me,” 

  
  


*****

  
  


“Really Aaron? you brought that old thing?” Robert asks as the movers carry an old battered armchair into the living room. It looks incongruous against all the sleek modern furniture that they’ve picked out of a catalogue and had shipped over from Italy. 

“You bet I did,” Aaron says, petting the faded brown fabric arm as though it were a beloved pet. It’s got patches where elbows have been rested, worn shiny with age. The seat had a permanent dent and some of the chair lining is hanging loose, sagging between the scratched wooden legs. “And before you say anything, it’s going in my office,” He adds, sticking his tongue out. “This was me Uncle Zak’s favourite chair and it reminds me of the farm,” 

“Well, can’t argue with that,” Robert answers, shaking his head fondly. 

“Robert? Aaron?” A voice calls from the doorway. 

“Joe? really?” Aaron says quietly with a sigh. Robert shrugs apologetically. 

“I mentioned we’re still moving in the last bits and he just kind of invited himself,” He replies. 

“Of course he did,” Aaron mutters as Joe bounds into the room in another one of his bespoke suits, his shined Oxfords tapping on the polished floorboards. 

“Wow, it looks great in here,” He says, spinning around to take in the whole view of the room. Aaron supposes that it does look impressive, especially since it’s only been two weeks. They’ve had the floors buffed and polished and dotted rugs here and there to give it a warmer look. The exposed brick walls have been painted and Robert’s hung framed copies of every issue of the car magazine that has one of Aaron’s articles in it. There’s a large floor to ceiling window, with an excellent view of the city. They’ve bought a squashy black leather L-shaped sofa and have set up a huge flatscreen TV with Aaron’s PS4 and VR headset. For the moment, Uncle Zak’s old armchair sits beside the couch. 

“Interesting choice,” Joe says, giving the armchair a poke. He’s keeping his voice light and joking but Aaron knows he’s secretly taking the piss. “I stopped by Marks’ on the way back from the office,” Joe holds up a Marks and Spencer’s carrier bag. “I picked up some snacks,” 

“Great,” Aaron replies with a fake smile.

END OF CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and commented so far! If you want to check out my tumblr where I sometimes post snippets of chapters in progress or just generally shit post about Robron then you can find me at https://mrdingleifyonasty.tumblr.com/
> 
> As always, feedback is life! :)

“Woah, what the hell? who does the demon cat belong to?” Joe asks as he dodges around the cat that currently appears to be taking a chunk out of his ankle. He’s helped himself to some wine from the fridge and apparently the cat has taken umbrage to the imposition. It probably didn’t help that the cat had been ignored when Joe unwrapped the salmon appetizers he’d brought with him. 

Aaron looks up and smirks. He’s never been a cat person, but he can’t help but like the scruffy little stray that’s been visiting them since they moved in. It seems to only really enjoy his company, becoming a hissing and spitting ball of rage around anyone else. Also, anyone who hates Joe Tate as much as the cat clearly does, gets a pass in his books. 

“It’s a stray,” Robert explains as he grabs another slice of pizza from one of the boxes open on the coffee table. “We don’t know how he’s getting in,”

“It’s a menace,” Joe says, shoo-ing the cat away as best as he can with a glass in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “So,” he sits down on the expensive black leather sofa. He’s obviously settling himself in for the night, much to Aaron’s annoyance. “You were about to tell me the story of how you guys met,”

“Oh god, really Robert?” Aaron rolls his eyes, albeit fondly. 

“What? it’s a good story!” Robert protests. “You have to admit it’s not exactly the norm!” He shakes his head and grins at the memory. “I’m surprised I haven’t told ya before,”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Joe says, taking a swig from his glass of wine. 

Aaron watches Joe carefully as Robert starts to tell the tale of the stolen car. They’re sitting on the sofa together. Joe’s body is turned towards his husband’s. They’re both dressed in their office best, shirt sleeves rolled up and suit jackets hung over the back of the sofa. Robert’s laughing as he tells the story and Joe’s eyes are roving all over his body. Aaron can’t believe the audacity of this guy. He’s half tempted to punch his lights out here and now. It’s only the fact that he trusts Robert implicitly that he doesn’t. There’s no way his husband would cheat on him. 

“And you didn’t call the police?” Joe is saying incredulously. 

“Nah, I couldn’t,” Robert says. He looks at Aaron and his whole face lights up. Aaron spots a very fleeting look of jealousy tarnish Joe’s expression before it’s quickly replaced with one of his slick smiles. “I thought he was well fit,” 

“You’re never gonna let me forget that, are ya?” Aaron asks, shaking his head. 

“Of course not,” Robert teases. “I could’ve been shacked up with some lord or lady of the manor and here I am living with someone who finds me ‘well fit’,” Robert hauls himself off the sofa and stretches. “I need another beer,”

As he pads off towards the kitchen, Aaron flashes Joe a knowing smile. One that says ‘you’ve got no chance mate,’. 

*****

Aaron sits in his Uncle Zak’s old chair, staring out at the city lights. His office space is slowly starting to come together. He’s got his desk, the first one he ever used when he started writing, and his supplies stacked somewhat haphazardly on a shelving unit beside it. His new state of the art computer is all hooked up and ready to go. 

He’s woken up in the middle of night. It’s not totally unheard of for him. Sometimes inspiration will strike. He hasn’t told anyone, not even Robert, yet but he’s secretly working on a children’s book about a pair of gay penguins. It’s a cutesy little story, nothing like his pages about the technical specs of the latest sports cars but he’s proud of what he has so far. It’s the sort of book he’d like his future kids to read. He’d scribbled down his latest plot point on the notebook he keeps in his bottom desk drawer and then found he couldn’t get back to sleep. 

He can’t help but feel annoyed. He thought he was past all this insomnia crap. He’s spent so many nights awake either having been woken up by nightmares or too scared to go to sleep in the first place. 

He rubs a hand over the scars on his left wrist. Sometimes, on nights like these, he still gets the urge to hurt himself. It feels like the only thing that will calm his chattering mind. On nights like these it’s hard to fight those urges that his therapy warned him would never lay completely dormant. 

“Aaron?” 

Robert’s suddenly in the doorway dressed only in his boxers. His hair is rumpled from sleep and he’s rubbing his eye. Aaron can’t help but smile at how fucking adorable his husband looks. Robert looks his most attractive to him when he’s not all dressed to the nines. 

“Sorry,” he whispers quietly. “Couldn’t sleep. I felt inspired,” 

Robert pads across the polished floorboards and leans down, wrapping his arms around Aaron’s shoulders from behind. 

“Mmm, I love that you’re inspired by cars,” He says throatily. “So hot…” He kisses the back of Aaron’s neck lightly. “I still remember how you looked in those overalls, all covered in oil…”

“We seem to remember that differently,” Aaron chuckles, leaning back into his husband’s touch. He loves how Robert’s arms around instill an almost instant sense of peace. If he’s ever doubtful about their relationship, all his husband needs to do is hold him and he knows that’s where he truly belongs. “I remember being knackered all the time, covered in filth and me back killing me. Oh, and you calling me a dirty little grease monkey,” 

Robert moves around until he’s perching on the arm of the chair. He leans in for a kiss. Aaron feels his fingers brush against the stubble on his cheek. It sends a tingle straight through him. 

“I never said that was a bad thing,” Robert replies. “Besides, didn’t stop you wanting me,”

“Mr Slick then, Mr Slick now,” Aaron teases. He pulls Robert in for another kiss, tugging him over the arm of the chair and onto his lap. “Did you notice Joe’s eyes all over you tonight?”

“Aww, are you jealous?” Robert says with a smirk. He brings Aaron’s hand up to his mouth and kisses it. “You know he’s not my type,” he adds as he shrugs out of his dressing gown and lets it fall to the polished floorboards. He adjusts his position so that he’s straddling his husband. 

“And what exactly are you trying to do right now Mr Sugden?” Aaron asks throatily as his hands start to rove across his husband’s chest. 

“What can I say Mr Dingle?” Robert replies, pulling Aaron in for another kiss as he starts to grind his hips. “I felt inspired…”

****

Aaron can feel himself almost drifting into sleep as he rests his head on his husband’s chest. Robert’s hands are carding through his hair and his worries seem a million miles away. They’ve been staring up at the ceiling for what feels like hours now. Although in reality, it could’ve only been a few minutes. This is one of Aaron’s favourite times. Relaxing and enjoying the peace that follows after they’ve had sex. Taking his time to come back to Earth and just bask in the warmth of the moment. 

“Dance with me,” Robert says suddenly. 

“You what?” Aaron asks, wrongfooted by the strange request. 

Robert leaps up and hurries over to the old jukebox. It was something that he’d bought entirely on a whim one day. He’d come back from some antique place with a delivery van in tow. Next thing Aaron knew, there were a couple of delivery guys hauling a genuine 1950s jukebox into the apartment. Apparently the thing was a ‘total bargain’. Robert had spent many a night on Ebay, hunting down and bidding on vinyl records to fill it. 

“Come on, it’s our song,” Robert urges, pressing a couple of buttons. Aaron watches as the jukebox arm slowly slides into place, picking up a record and laying it down on the turntable. The arm hovers over it for a moment, then carefully descends.

“We don’t have a song ya idiot,” Aaron replies fondly as the song starts to play. The opening notes of Adele’s ‘Make You Feel My Love’ fill the room as Robert approaches him and holds out a hand. Aaron shakes his head, a smile on his face as Robert hand twitches with a ‘come here’ gesture. They’ve never danced together before, not even at their wedding but Robert looks so earnest that Aaron can’t deny him. And of course, Robert being Robert, the song is total cheese.

He takes Robert’s hand as Adele starts to sing. Robert pulls him close and they start to sway to the music. The moonlight bounces off the polished floorboards. Bits of packing paper and styrofoam packing peanuts are scattered everywhere from their unpacking exploits. All they can hear is the song and each other’s breathing. 

Aaron’s hands roam down Robert’s naked back but unlike their frenetic movements in the armchair, this is slow and sensual. He’s taking the time to map the contours of his husband’s body, to feel the changes in texture as his fingertips move over soft hair or smooth skin. Eventually they come to rest at the small of his back. Robert’s arms snake gently around his neck and he’s pulled even closer. When they have sex his touch feels electric and makes his whole body thrum with wanting. Now it’s soft and tender and Aaron can feel the love in his touch. They seem to move as one even though they’ve never done this before. 

“I love you, you know that right?” Robert asks softly. 

“You know I do,” Aaron replies. His mouth opens to say more but quickly closes. He wants to say it so bad. But he just can’t shake the memories of Jackson, what his so-called love did to him. He tries to concentrate on his husband, desperate not to ruin the moment. “Ditto,” he whispers quietly. 

  
  


****

Robert frowns as he stares at the computer screen. He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks at his address book that’s open beside him and then again at the screen. Unfortunately, the view doesn’t change. He’s been staring at it for hours now, trying to work out what the hell is going on. This is the shitty end of his job. Someone fucks up and he spends the best part of his workday trying to figure out who, when and how.

  
  


“Right, try again then,” He mutters to himself as his fingers glide across the keyboard. His frown deepens when his calculations produce the exact same result. He pinches the bridge of his nose and decides some serious technical support is required if he’s going to make it to his date with Aaron. 

Joe walks into his office just as he’s slapping the side of his monitor. 

“Glitch,” Robert explains with a sheepish smile when Joe gives him a curious look. “What’s up?”

“It’s the Greenberg and White accounts,” Joe replies. “I can’t get into either of them. Your MAC code doesn’t work,” 

“Yeah, I changed it,” Robert says, staring at his screen once more. Unsurprisingly, his brand of ‘technical support’ has done nothing to improve the situation currently laid out before him. 

“Why?” Joe asks. Robert’s not looking at him but he can hear the frown in his voice. Which is fair, he supposes. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Joe. He trusts the guy with his life. Hell, he’s not in the habit of giving out his MAC codes left, right and centre. It’s just…

“Look, you can keep your mouth shut right?” Robert says, turning to look at his friend.

“You know I can,” Joe answers adamantly. He moves aside some paperwork to perch on the corner of Robert’s desk. 

“I’ve been looking into some stuff…” Robert lowers his voice. The door to his office is closed but he’s learnt that when it comes to office gossip, there are eyes and ears everywhere. “And I think I’ve stumbled onto something,” he nods at his computer screen. “There’s too much money in these accounts,” 

“What?” Joe looks confused. “How could that happen? It’s ridiculous. There couldn’t possibly be too much money in them,” 

“And that’s what I keep telling myself,” Robert says grimly. “But it doesn’t change what I see and what I see isn’t looking good,” He sighs heavily and leans back in his chair. If this had happened this time last year he would’ve stayed glued to his desk until the early hours, refusing to go home until he found out exactly what was going on. It’s hard to break a habit but whenever he’s tempted to pull an all nighter he just needs to remind himself of how Aaron looked in that hospital bed. So fucking ill and exhausted, thick bandages wound around the cut he hadn’t even seen, let alone ignored long enough to get infected. Never again. 

“It’s probably the computer,” Joe replies with a shrug. “Move over, I’ll have a look. Second set of eyes and all that,” He adds, getting up. 

“No, not yet,” Robert shakes his head. “I need to dig around a bit more.” He switches off the computer and stands up. “But not tonight,” He says firmly. He drains the last of his coffee and reaches for his blazer that’s slung over the back of his chair. 

“What’s all this then?” Joe asks with a raised eyebrow. “Mr Banking Whiz isn’t burning the midnight oil for once?” He teases. 

“Yep,” Robert checks in his back pocket for his wallet. “I promised Aaron no more late nights at the office and I’m sticking to it,” he grabs his phone and checks the time. “Right, I’m off. Got a hot date,” 

“Wow this really is a new you,” Joe replies. “Where are you taking him? There’s meant to be this new Italian place near Park Row that’s got some great reviews,” 

“Aaron’s not into all that fancy stuff,” Robert says as he gives his reflection a once over and fiddles with his hair in the mirror hanging on the back of his door. He wants to look good for his husband and not like he’s been stressing over accounts for eight hours. “There’s this student cinema near Hyde Park that’s showing Rocky IV as part of some retro action movies week so we’re going up there,” satisfied with his appearance, he opens his office door. “We’ll probably just pick up a pizza from somewhere on the way home,” 

“Well, have a good night!” Joe grins at him. 

“Oh I intend to!”

  
  
  


****

  
  


It’s a crisp evening when Aaron and Robert step out of the small cinema a few hours later. Aaron zips up his hoodie and pulls Robert closer, linking arms, as they start the walk back into the city centre. It’s not that far away. In fact, they can see the bank of lights in the distance, peeking out of the other side of the park. It’s a walk they’ve done countless times before after an evening out at the student picture house. It’s one of Aaron’s favourite places to go and see his old favourites on the big screen.

“So, explain the whole working out in the wilderness thing?” Robert asks as they turn onto the main road. The entrance to the park is just a few steps away. Aaron finds himself automatically trying to steer his husband away from it so they can take the main roads that surround it instead. The park doesn’t have the best reputation at night. It’s an area that is populated mostly by students, so would-be thieves think they’re more likely able to prey on those who have just moved to Leeds and don’t know where’s safe yet. 

“It’s meant to be American grit versus Russian technology. Drago’s got a whole team behind him right? injecting him with shit and hooking him up to all these machines but Rocky’s got heart and passion for the sport. He wins on determination” Aaron explains with a roll of his eyes. Robert had actually fallen asleep during a pivotal part of the plot and had started to snore. It was only when Aaron grabbed his nose that he woke up and demanded a full breakdown of everything that he’d missed. 

“I still don’t get why you like those movies,” Robert says. 

“Because they’re good?” Aaron replies as he gives his husband's shoulder a light punch. “Look, Sylvester Stallone-”

“Wrote them himself and demanded he take the starring role when the whole of Hollywood was against it, I know, I know,” It’s Robert’s turn to roll his eyes now. “You and your cheesy 80’s action movies!”

“You mean like your love of awful music?” Aaron teases. “I saw those Britney Spears albums you got off ebay! I know they’re sullying that jukebox right now!” 

“That was extremely rude Mr Dingle,” Robert replies, giving Aaron a little flick on the tip of his nose.“So, you given any thought to what you want to do for our anniversary? it’s only a couple of months away. I was thinking we could book some time off. Maybe Paris?” 

“Some time away would be good,” Aaron muses. They’d gone to a music festival last year. They’d stayed the whole weekend, doing the whole tent and muddy field bit. It had definitely been more his kind of thing than Robert’s but they’d still had a lot of fun. 

As it happens, he’s actually been working up the courage to ask something pretty important about their future. He’s not sure if it’s the new apartment or the fact that Robert’s putting in less hours at the bank but his husband is looking the happiest Aaron has seen him in a long time. “I was actually thinking...maybe we could look into having kids?” He says it tentatively then almost goes headlong as Robert suddenly stops dead in the middle of the street.

“Kids?” He says doubtfully. Aaron can understand why. He’s always said that he doesn’t want kids. He wouldn’t want to bring a kid into his messed up world. Robert’s the one who’s dreamt of being a father for years now. “But you said that you didn’t want kids,” 

“A lot has changed since then,” Aaron replies shyly. “I’m doing better and you’re not so snowed under with work...the new place is massive. That attic space could make a really nice nursery,” He can feel himself blushing. Since deciding he’s ready for kids he’s thought about the nursery thing a lot. He can’t help but picture it when they go up there to plan out what they’re going to do with the rest of the space. It seems so clear in his mind’s eye. It’s the perfect place to start a family. It’s where he imagines reading them his story. Perhaps settling down on some comfy bean bags. They’ve got two kids in his fantasy. Two boys. One of them sits on his lap and the other is on Robert’s as they both listen to him reading. 

Suddenly however, his happy picture develops an ugly crack. A deep fissure which goes right across the middle, threatening to break it into pieces. It obviously reflects on his face because Robert’s gently cupping his chin, thumb gently stroking his stubble. 

“What is it?” He asks softly. Aaron looks away but he knows that Robert isn’t going to give in that easily. “Is it the ‘I love you’ thing again?” 

Aaron nods slowly. 

He hasn’t been able to say those words ever since Jackson. It’s not that he doesn’t love Robert. Of course he does. His husband is the love of his life. Even though he’s been through therapy, he still can’t shake the feeling that it was his love that killed Jackson. He’s been working so hard to try and work up the courage to finally say it out loud but he always stops short. He’s beginning to feel like it's insurmountable. 

“I don’t need to hear it Aaron,” Robert continues. He gives him a gentle kiss. “The words don’t mean anything. You show it all the time and you’re gonna show it to our kids too. You’re gonna be a great Dad,”

Aaron’s not paying attention to the world at all. He’s not paying attention to anyone around him even though, in the very back of his mind, he knows this is stupid. They’re right next to the park. It’s not safe...

A face suddenly appears at Robert’s shoulder. There’s an overwhelming stench of beer and cigarettes. Robert lets go of him and spins around. They’re both face to face with the stranger. He’s short but stocky, with a bald head and a goatee. His dark eyes are full of hatred. 

“Your wallet,” He demands gruffly. 

Aaron’s first instinct is to knock the guy out. That is, until he sees the gun in his hand. It’s concealed enough that a passer-by or, more importantly, a passing police car wouldn’t see it but it’s there and it’s very very real. 

“Take it,” Robert replies. He’s obviously seen the gun too. He fumbles in his blazer pocket for a moment and pulls out his wallet. Aaron does the same. Money can be replaced and so can credit cards. It’s not worth dying over. Their mugger is clearly not new to this. His hand holding the gun remains steady and his gaze unwavering. Everything about his posture is saying hardened criminal. Aaron’s certainly no stranger to those. 

Instead of handing the wallet over, Robert’s opening it and shakily pulling out all the money he has. Aaron can’t believe his stupidity until he remembers the photo. It’s the only one that Robert has of his parents together. He keeps it in there alongside a picture from their wedding day. They can always get copies of the wedding day photo but the photo of Jack and Sarah can’t be replaced. 

Before Aaron can stop him, the mugger’s arm flies out and hits Robert around the head, snatching the wallet from his hands. Robert reels back from the force of the blow and Aaron can see the blood on his face. He doesn’t notice the gun anymore. Doesn’t feel the fear. All he feels is white hot anger. This man has hurt his husband. 

Aaron dives for the man, wrestling him to the ground. And that’s when the gun goes off. 

The mugger runs for it.

Aaron follows him down the street. The mugger is slightly faster than he is and, with his headstart, he manages to duck away down a side street. Aaron’s not entirely sure if the gun was dropped in the melee and decides that chasing him further is probably not the best idea. Who knows if he has mates waiting down there? That and he’s got to find out if Robert’s alright. He turns on his heel and races back up the street. 

Robert’s yelling for help. He can see him crouched on the ground. He’s yelling at the top of his voice, sounding terrified and desperate. 

“Help! Please! somebody help!” 

There’s no reply from the darkness around him. 

Aaron hurries forward. Robert’s hunched over now, a horrible pained sound coming from somewhere deep within. He’s heard that sound before. It’s hazy but he remembers waking up in a hospital bed and listening to his husband sobbing in the chair next to him. 

What if....oh god. What if Robert’s hurt? What if nobody comes to help and Aaron has to watch his love bleed out in the street? 

What if…

What if Robert leaves him? 

It gets worse as he gets closer. Now he can see the blood. Robert’s covered in it. Staining his shirt and blazer sleeves. It’s everywhere. His palms are slippy with it. 

But it’s not Robert’s blood. 

Aaron feels sick as he sees.... _ himself... _ laying in a pool of his own blood. There’s a wound in his chest, right over his heart. Blood pulsates from it, bubbling and leaking onto the concrete. Aaron turns away to vomit but nothing comes. 

“Aaron...oh god...Aaron...please,” Robert pulls his body closer, his grip slipping slightly from the blood on his hands. “You can’t...no...please Aaron!” His voice gets louder and louder. “Don’t leave me...you can’t leave me…” 

Aaron’s full on panicking now. He tries to reach out and touch his husband’s shoulder. There’s a weird ethereal noise as his hand passes straight through it. 

“What the fuck…” He mutters as the sounds of sirens start to filter in between Robert’s broken sobs.Suddenly there are people running towards him. They’re wearing green jumpsuits. Paramedics. Aaron runs at them desperately. “Please! help me!” 

They run straight through him. As if he’s not there...as if he’s…

He watches helplessly as they approach his prone body. One of them takes Robert by the shoulders and tries to pull him away. He lets out a blood curdling scream as the other one grabs hold of the body’s wrist. It’s subtle, the look that passes between them. Coupled with a gentle shake of the head. No signs of life. 


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with chapter three! Sorry for the delay! 
> 
> There's mentions of bloody and injury in this chapter. Nothing too graphic and, of course, there's character death and a funeral so if you find these things triggering, please take care when reading. 
> 
> While this isn't going to be a happy story, there will be lighter moments once Aaron and Adam meet so this should be the darkest chapter of the whole story. Sorry about that! :( 
> 
> I'm not sure 'enjoy' is the right word here so I'll close with, I hope you don't find this too sad!

The ambulance sways slightly as it makes it way through the busy city centre roads, sirens screaming into the night. There’s a new one way system to the roads now. Aaron’s always complaining about trying to traverse it while Robert gently laughs at him for getting so angry over nothing. 

God. 

What is he doing? Thinking about a stupid bloody traffic system when he’s riding in the back of an ambulance with his own body. That’s how truly fucking bizarre this whole situation is. 

The paramedic has been working flat out since they loaded his body into the back. They’ve done it all, wires, injections, chest compressions. Now she’s taking a pair of paddles down from a shelf and it’s just like an episode of some hospital drama as she charges them up and applies pads to his chest. Aaron can’t bear to look at the wound. It’s been packed and dressed but his blood has soaked through the white gauze, staining it a garish red. 

Robert sits in the little passenger’s chair and watches it all unfold. He’s shaking uncontrollably and they’ve wrapped a red blanket around him. His hair and face are spotted with blood. It’s caked all over the hands that fiddle with the blanket’s hem. His nails are brown. He stares ahead and Aaron’s not sure that he’s even seeing anything that’s going on anymore. As soon as he was strapped into the chair, he shut down. He jumps like he’s the one receiving the electric shock. 

The paramedic tries to talk to him, tries telling him that she’s doing everything she can as she fights to stop the inevitable. She tries asking what his name is. What Aaron’s name is but all Robert does is shake. Shake and rock back and forth with tears streaming from his eyes. His mouth keeps opening and closing, forming words but no sound comes out. Aaron recognises the silent pleas. He’s saying his name over and over again. 

Aaron tries to soothe him. Tries to pull the blanket tighter around him. Tries to hold his hand and answer the paramedic’s questions. But it’s all in vain. She talks over him and Robert’s trembling gets worse and he can’t do a single thing to make it better. This is his new normal now. And he’s stuck. 

  
  


****

  
  
  


When they arrive at the hospital, his body is taken away almost immediately. It’s covered by a sheet and goes, Aaron presumes, straight to the morgue. 

Robert is hustled away from the prying eyes of the Accident and Emergency Department’s resus area into a little side room with cheap looking chairs and a little table with a box of tissues on it. There’s a kindly looking nurse with him, telling him that the police have arrived and they want to speak to him. She tells him that he doesn’t need to push himself and brings him a cup of hot sugary tea that he completely ignores. She offers him some wipes to clean his hands but they’re ignored too. Robert is completely disassociated and Aaron knows that none of these strangers will know the magic words to bring him back. 

He feels totally useless. He stands in the doorway and stares down the hallway that his body disappeared down. Half of him wants to follow it. Wanting to know what they’re going to do to him, to his body. The idea of leaving it behind makes him feel sick again only now he knows that feeling is all in his head because he can’t physically feel sick anymore. He can’t physically feel anything and it throws him off kilter. He should be able to feel the squeaky tiled floor beneath his feet. But it’s like he’s floating even though, if he looks down, his feet are firmly planted in his black boots. 

“So, what happened to you?” 

Aaron frowns and looks to his right. There’s a row of seats outside the family room and sitting on the one nearest to him is an old man. There’s nobody else around so either he’s crazy or he’s actually talking to him. Like he knows that he’s there. Like he can see him…

“You’re talking to me?” He asks incredulously. If this man can see him, maybe there’s hope for him yet. Maybe, eventually, Robert will see him.

“You’re new huh?” The old man chuckles humorlessly. “I can tell,” Aaron must look like he’s about to hit him because he shakes his head. “Relax. It’s not like before lad. This is a whole new ball-of-wax,” 

“Who are you?” Aaron demands. This is the first person who’s spoken to him since this whole terrible mess started and it’s like talking to a bloody brick wall. A bloody cryptic brick wall at that. 

“Don’t worry, the first day is always the roughest,” The old man answers. 

“Ok mate, you’re really gonna have to give me a clue here ‘cos I’ve got no fucking clue what you’re banging on about,” Aaron snarls. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the nurse approaching Robert again, patting him on the shoulder. Robert stays completely motionless. Like stone. Like he’s the one that can no longer feel anything around him. 

“I’ll tell you a secret Lad. Doors? They ain’t as bad as you’d think. Zip zap. Ain’t nothing at all. You’ll catch on. They all do. Some takes longer of course but then we weren’t all first the queue when the good Lord was dealing out the brains,” 

“Wait, you mean, you’re dead too?” Aaron asks. He’s fully aware of how weird the question is but, since absolutely nothing makes sense in this new messed up life of his, he figures he doesn’t have anything to lose.

“Aye Lad,” The old man nods a little sadly. “Heart attack it were. That’s my old missus in there,” he points to another one of the resus bays further down the corridor. Aaron can hear the flurry of activity that’s going on behind the blue curtain. Medical jargon that he’s heard in movies and on TV. When he looks back at the old man, he’s smiling wistfully. “Been waiting ages for her I have. The old girl’s been as fit as a butcher’s dog. Still. Not long to go now,” he peers into the family room. “So that one’s yours is he?” 

“His name’s Robert,” Aaron says automatically. “We were gonna have kids…” He adds quietly. That’s what Aaron is now. A past tense. Everything about him has become a past tense. 

Before he can dwell on that thought any further, there’s a commotion of shouting voices and feet squeaking on the tiles as a man is brought into the resus area. He’s rushed into one of the bays and a nurse closes the curtains as doctors and other nurses start yelling instructions and medical speak. From what he can tell, it’s a life threatening situation and, just like his own, it’s not going well. He turns back to the old man again and he’s shaking his head sadly. 

“Poor fella ain’t gonna make it. I’ve seen it a million times before. Goner he is. See?” he nods towards the curtained off bay. “Here they come,” 

Suddenly the bay is bathed in a bright light. Aaron vaguely remembers it appearing around him just as the gun went off. Over the top of the curtain he can see strange and ethereal forms, completely amorphous. They float down from the ceiling slowly and serenely. 

“Asystole!” Aaron hears one of the staff shout. He knows that word from TV. He knows enough to know that it’s irreversible in most cases. 

Sure enough, a few moments later, the forms rise back to the ceiling. This time they’re carrying a body. It’s the man. He changes slowly from a solid being into an ethereal form just like them. Aaron watches in disbelief as the spirit disappears upwards through the ceiling. The frantic ministrations of the medical staff over. 

“Lucky git,” The old man comments conversationally. “Could’ve easily been the other ones.” 

Aaron turns to ask what the hell the ‘other ones’ are but when he does, the old man is no longer there. 

  
  


****

  
  
  


Aaron’s always hated funerals. 

It’s a totally empty thought of course. And a bloody stupid one to boot. He’s pretty sure that the people who say they love them would be few and far between. Going to your own funeral though...that’s something that exists only in movies or TV. Everything about this new ‘life’ of his seems to be ripped from some melodrama. 

Except the reality is that his own funeral is happening right now. 

Aaron’s always been proud of the fact that he’s a Dingle. One of the best things about it is the strong sense of family that comes with the name. Loneliness is something that you never have to worry about when you have an entire family at your back. 

An entire family that is at his funeral. He’s surrounded by them and he’s never felt lonelier in his life. It’s a question a lot of people wonder about. What the turnout would be like at their funeral. Would they get masses of people or just a few mourners? He’d been there when discussions had been held as to where his funeral would take place. Eventually it had been decided that it would be back in Emmerdale. He would be buried beside his Uncle Zak. Robert’s barely spoken since the shooting but he opened his mouth long enough to advocate for that. 

Aaron can’t take his eyes off his husband. He’s standing by the grave, Diane on one side of him, Vic on the other. They both look as though they’re holding him upright. He certainly looks like he’s about to shatter into pieces. He’s dressed in a new suit. Diane or Vic must’ve got it for him because Robert hasn’t left the apartment since showed up at the hospital and took him home. He looks dazed and confused and Aaron can imagine exactly how his husband feels. One moment they were happily talking about having kids and their future. Now this. 

His mum is a complete wreck too. She’s been sobbing loudly throughout the service, clutching onto Paddy’s arm like a lifeline. Paddy is weeping silently, his face red and shiny. In fact, as he looks around the gravesite, the only dry eyes belong to the Vicar. Harriet, he thinks her name is. The rest of his family cry in varying degrees. Even Cain. He’s standing back, away from the group. Moira’s arm is linked through his. He’s staring ahead but there are tears clearly in his eyes. And then there’s Liv. She’s not even here. Sandra was still intent on dragging her around the country, moving on every few months so it was hard for them to keep track of her. Did she even know? God. What if she had to read about it in some scandal rag? Or on the internet? His murder had been reported in the papers after all. 

And suddenly the full enormity of it all hits him. Not only has he left his husband despite vowing never to do so. There are so many more things he’s going to leave behind. He’ll never get to hug his mum or help her with Eve. Never get to see Liv grow up. Never take the piss out of Paddy or go for a pint with his Uncle Cain again. The overwhelming weight of it all nearly knocks him off his feet. 

He looks around quickly, desperately craving something. He’s not sure what. Normality? That doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore. Everything is a distorted funhouse mirror reflection now. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots an old man by one of the gravestones. He’s wearing a wax jacket and has an olive green wool flat cap on top of his head and underneath wire-rimmed glasses, he has an impressive handle-bar moustache, bushy and white, growing up his cheeks. A dog stands at his feet. He looks up and smiles sadly at him before disappearing before Aaron’s eyes. 

He can barely watch as his coffin is lowered into the ground. Robert steps forward, tears streaming down his face. He looks wobbly, as though he’s going to collapse any moment. Aaron reaches out for him instinctively but, of course, Robert doesn’t feel his touch just like he doesn’t feel Robert. Instead, Joe steps forward, his hand on Robert’s shoulder. Robert nods at him through his tears. He’s given a handful of dirt. 

Aaron knows what’s coming but he still can barely take the finality that seems to reverberate all around him when the dirt hits his coffin. 

  
  


****

“There you go pet,” Diane says gently as she places a cup of tea and a plate of toast on the coffee table. Robert’s sitting on the couch. He’s out of his black suit and wearing an old pair of sweats and one of Aaron’s hoodies. The purple material swamps him, making him look more vulnerable. It doesn’t help that Aaron has barely seen Robert eat anything at all since the shooting. When he’d pulled off his suit from the funeral, Aaron had seen how his husband’s ribs had become more visible. 

“Why don’t you come back to the village with us?” Vic suggests. She’s got her arms wrapped around herself, hands clutching at her elbows so tight that her knuckles have started to go white. Aaron knows she’s hurting too but she’s obviously trying her best not to break down in front of her brother. 

“I think that’s a good idea love,” Diane replies, she gives Vic’s shoulder a squeeze. “Even if you just come back for a little while. Maybe a few weeks. Just until you get used to-“

“What?” Robert snaps. “Get used to my dead husband?” He snarls. He glares at his sister but, as quickly as the fire starts, it peters out. He sighs and wipes his eyes with his sleeve. It’s weird seeing Robert like this. With all the fight sapped out of him. He’s always been the strong one in their relationship. The unfaltering rock. Of course, Robert used to say Aaron’s strong too but Aaron could never see it. 

“Try and eat your toast eh?” Diane says. She slides the plate closer to him. “You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to. We just thought it might be better than you being here by yourself,” 

“I’m not leaving my home,” Robert replies. “Besides, got some big cases on at work, I’ll be fine,” 

Vic narrows her eyes. Aaron’s glad that it’s blatantly obvious that his husband is lying through his teeth. He’s going to be anything but fine. 

“You’re not Rob,” She says adamantly. Diane flashes her a warning look which she chooses to ignore. “Why would you be? your husband was just murdered,”

Robert flinches at the word. Diane lets out a little squeak of surprise. Aaron has to admire Vic for her straight talking. It was one of the things that drew him to her, years before he had any idea who Robert Sugden was. 

“Vic I-” Robert starts to weakly protest. 

“Come on Rob,” Vic presses. “You can stay with me or at the pub with Diane. Even if it’s just for a week or two.” 

“Why don’t you guys just relax about this?” 

Aaron whips round and sees Joe. He’s standing at the front door with some Marks and Spencers bags in his arms. He bustles through the living room, not waiting for anyone to actually invite him in and dumps the bags on the kitchen counter. Aaron glares as he starts to unpack them, bringing out all kinds of luxury food, including some stuff he knows for a fact that Robert hates. 

“We’re looking out for him,” Vic replies through clenched teeth. “We’re his family.” 

“And I’m his best friend,” Joe says as he pulls out a bottle from one of the bags. 

“Oh really? Alcohol? You think that’s what he needs right now?” Vic asks sardonically. She peers at the bottle of whiskey. “No expense spared huh?” 

Aaron can’t help but smile slightly in spite of himself. Vic and Joe had first crossed paths at the wedding and she’d taken an instant dislike to him. In fact, she’d called him a ‘slimy, smarmy git’. They’d had a laugh about Joe’s extra tight shirts that looked as though they were going to burst open at any minute. Vic had been particularly scathing about what she called ‘his designer stubble’. 

“If Robert wants to stay at home then he should,” Joe shrugs as though it’s all that simple. “He feels comfortable here. Besides, I’ll be popping by all the time and he needn’t worry about work. I’ve got him covered,” 

Robert lets Vic and Joe argue over the top of his head like he’s not even in the room. He doesn’t look capable of making a decision right now. He’s picking at a loose thread on the hoodie’s sleeve and staring off into the distance. His eyes focused on the marriage certificate they’d hung on the wall over the fireplace. 

  
  


****

  
  


As soon as the funeral is over and Diane and Vic have grudgingly returned to Emmerdale, Robert shuts down completely. Aaron’s always considered himself the depressive one in their marriage but Robert is sinking and sinking fast. 

For a start, he goes nowhere near the bedroom. He’s not sleeping much at all but, when he does, it’s on the couch. He spends most of his time there. He doesn’t turn on the lights when the day slowly ebbs away into night. He traipses into the kitchen every couple of days and grabs something from the cupboard. Recently it’s been cereal. He eats it by the handful, not even bothering to find a bowl or some milk. Aaron’s pretty sure the contents of the fridge are way past their sell by date at this point. He’s still in the same sweatpants and hoodie, hair rumpled and greasy. Robert’s always been proud of his appearance, spending silly amounts of money on fancy products and, whereas Aaron used to favour Primark or perhaps Topman if he was really splashing out, Robert used to favour the higher end stores. 

The nights are slowly starting to get colder, but Robert never touches the switch for the fancy underfloor heating. He doesn’t even grab himself a blanket. He just pulls Aaron’s hoodie closer around himself and sits and shivers. 

“Come on Rob,” Aaron pleads with him. “Why don’t you make yourself something hot? a bacon butty or summat? Ya love bacon butties,” 

They were a staple of their breakfasts together. Robert singing some god awful pop song while he fried the bacon, Aaron brewing the tea and ripping the piss about him knowing all the lyrics.

Aaron would suggest that Robert try and take himself off to bed to get warmed up but he knows himself that he’d struggle to sleep in a bed they used to share as well. Just like Robert, he wouldn’t be able to deal with the empty space beside him and the prospect of reaching out in the middle of the night and not feeling the warm body of his sleeping husband makes him want to scream in despair. He totally gets Robert’s decision to go nowhere near it. 

His pleas, of course, fall on deaf ears. Or, more accurately, ears that are never going to hear him again. 

Robert’s eyes still drift to the marriage certificate on the wall. But he doesn’t cry. He’d stopped crying the day after the funeral and it worries Aaron no end. At least if his husband is crying, it means he’s processing his emotions. The fact that Robert seems to have completely withdrawn means that he’s trying to force it all away in some dark recess of his brain. Aaron knows a hell of a lot about that and even more about how it’s not good for you. 

He wants to scream, to shout and curse and kick the furniture. But it would all be useless. Nobody would see. Nobody would hear. There’s just him and the void. That’s when Aaron learns that the dead can’t cry. 


End file.
